Dead To Me
by ThatKlutzCalledBella
Summary: He was never a model father. After Aven's mother died after a 'hit and run' she and her father moved to New Jersey. Still, life was far from perfect. Her father turned back to alcohol and blamed Aven for everything wrong in his sorry life. JoeJonasFF


Sitting lonely as ever on the patchy leather loveseat, I flicked through the tattered pages of _Pride & Prejudice _for the hundredth time that week. I didn't bother opening the curtains. It would only remind me of what I was missing out on. I could only imagine the hot sun beating down on the pavement below; I hardly ever basked in its warmth. I would, be the door was locked. He made sure of that.

Speak of the Devil.

The rusty old gate outside squeaked as it opened and closed. The breath hitched in my throat. He was home. Gathering my book, I acted quickly and quietly, creeping up the stairs to hide in the tiny laundry cupboard.

I could only sit and pray that he didn't find me.

The front door slammed shut and I could hear his heavy footsteps clonk around downstairs. "Aven! Where are ya, baby girl?" His words slurred together. "Avennnn…" He cooed. He was drunk. No surprises. "Where are youuuuu?!" He sang, stomping around. "Come out, Princess and give daddy a hug."

I had to clamp my hand over my mouth and screw my eyes up so I didn't sob out loud. I hated my dad when he was like this. It was awful. _He can't help it though, it's not his fault he gets like this, and he's just having a hard time. _I tried to reassure myself, but I just couldn't.

His footsteps grew louder as he came up the stairs. He checked in all the rooms, still slurring my name. "AVEN!" He bellowed, a single tear escaped my right eye. I cursed the hiccup that followed it. Shit. The cupboard door swung open. My father stood there, swaying on the spot, a bottle of beer in his hand.

"There you are, Princess." He sighed, his breath reeked of alcohol and his eyes were bloodshot, brown and grey stubble forming on his chin. I didn't say a word. I scared senseless. It wasn't my dad when he was like this. I didn't know him when he was drunk. I took a deep beer-tainted breath and untangled my legs from under my chin and stood up. I wasn't much smaller than him but I suddenly felt so small.

I forced a tiny smile and went to shuffle round him but he put his arm up against the door-frame, barring my one and only exit. "Where are you goin', Baby Doll?" He asked, breathing his awful breath all over me. I should be used to it by now, I smell it often enough.

"I have to… go… I'm tired, I think I'm gonna go lie down." I stumbled over my words, my heart beating out of my chest because he was so unpredictable when drunk.

"Have you made my steak?" I didn't at first understand what he said; his words were all mushed up. "Well? Where is it?" He pressed.

"You… I didn't know you w-wanted a steak." I tried, my palms were sweating and my breathing was laboured.

"I told you I wanted a steak." He said calmly. I edged ever so slowly back into the cupboard. "SO WHERE'S MY FUCKING STEAK?!" He shouted suddenly.

"We don't have any steak!" I said trying not to sound too pissed off.

"You useless fucking child!" He yelled throwing the bottle down the hallway, it hit the wall at the other end with a crash. I flinched back. "Do I have to do everything for my fucking self?" He said, his voice rising with every word. I couldn't stop the moisture from forming in my eyes.

"Daddy calm down, y-your just not yourself today, j-just go sit down and I'll make you some coffee, is that okay?" I tried reasoning with him.

"Who the Hell are _you _to tell _me _what to do?!" He leant over me, spitting accidentally on most of the words, "I don't want _coffee _I want my steak!" The alcohol on his breath was actually stinging my eyes. He fisted the neck of my t-shirt and pulled me up, throwing me to the floor in the hallway. He dragged me like a rag-doll to my feet.

"Dad I'm sorry, p-please just don't hurt me!"

"Again with the bossing!" He hissed. "When I need your assistance, I'll ask for it!" He said, slapping me across the face with the back of his hand. It stung even more because of the tear that soaked my face.

"I'm sorry!" I begged as he kicked me in the back, knocking the wind from my lungs, "Daddy _please._" I pleaded whilst trying to catch my breath.

"Don't-" kick "tell" kick "me" punch "what to" kick "do!" It felt like a weight had been lifted as I succumbed to the darkness.

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I awoke the next morning in my bed to the smell of eggs and bacon. I tried to sit up and groaned. The pain in my back and stomach was unbearable. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stood up, grimacing at the pain. I hobbled across to the half-broken mirror hanging on the far wall and raised my top to assess the damage.

About eighty percent of the skin of my back was black and bumpy, same on my belly. My lip was fat and there was dried blood on my chin. I wet my finger and rubbed it off. There was a greenish bruise at the corner of my eye. I sighed and slowly headed for the door.

I followed the delicious smell to the kitchen. He shouldn't be as bad as the previous day, he has a quick recovery time; his body was so used to being intoxicated.

"Good morning', Sunshine!" He cooed, spinning round to plonk a steaming plate of eggs an bacon at one of the two chairs at the round wooden table. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," I lied, it was best to play along, it was easier that way, "wonderfully actually. What's with the breakfast?" I asked, nodding to the food on the table.

"Cant a father cook for his beautiful daughter once in a little while?" He said, turning back around to wash a glass in the sink, "Well what are you waiting for? Dig in!" He laughed. I quickly complied, sliding into the chair and stuffing half the scrambled egg in my mouth. If I didn't finish who knows what he'd do?

After forcing down the food he bent to take my plate. I smiled at him. "Oh dear, what happened to your face?" He asked, reaching out to cup my chin. I flinched away, pushing the chair out and standing across the table from him. "Aven?" He asked, walking around to stand closer, "Who did this? Was it a boy? I'll fucking kill 'im!" He hastily went to envelope me in a hug, but I backed away again until I was standing in the doorway.

"Stay away from me!" I half screamed, half sobbed.

My dad had always turned to the drink when things got bad, I knew he was a nasty drunk person, but never in my sixteen years had he hit me. I was used to him yelling at me, but now I was scared and I felt alone.

"Darlin' whats wrong?" He asked, staggering forward to touch my shoulder and I shook it off immediately, jumping backwards into the sitting room.

"I said stay away!" I yelled, choking on my own tears.

"Grow up, Aven!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" I mocked him. I was sick of this. I was _not _the type of girl to take shit from a guy, even if it is my daddy.

He slapped me hard. The familiar sting shot across the same cheek as last night.

"Aven! I'm so sorry!" He gasped, realising that he'd just hit me. The guy had serious mood issues. If I knew any better I'd say it was PMS.

"Just fuck off!" I screamed at the top of my voice, turning around to pick up the crystal vase that once belonged to my mother.

"Don't you touch that!"

"Why, hit a nerve did I?" I said, tossing the vase between my hands, "You never told my mother sorry did you?"

"That… was an accident." He stammered, turning his back on me. He hurt me. He hurt her. So I hurt him.

There was a musical crash as the vase dropped from between my hands, the shards nipping at my naked toes and ankles, tiny drops of scarlet arising.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" He screamed at me, his eyes full of unshed tears as he looked at the shattered glass.

"No. What have _you _done?" I said calmly, "You were the one who killed her." My father stalked past me, breathing deeply through his nose to control his anger and upset. "Off to get wasted are we?" I yelled after him.

I looked down at the glass surrounding my feet. "I'm so sorry, Mom." I whispered. I'd just destroyed the only link between me and her.

I did what I always did when things got too much for me; I went upstairs to the bathroom and poked about in the cupboard until I found what I was looking for.

My trusted razor blade. I looked at it for a while, turning it over in my hands until I couldn't see through my tears.

What would my mom think?

"Its your fault she's dead." I told myself as I rolled up my shorts to uncover my thighs. They were each littered with scars, some old and faded, others pink. I closed my eyes and thought of her beautiful face as I dragged the blade across my thighs.

I didn't know how long I'd been sat there on the bathroom floor, propped up against the bathtub, but I figured it was a while since I'd left my legs and moved onto my arms. The white tile floor was stained with red spots. I felt much better. She should be here, alive, living, breathing, making the world a better place one cookie at a time. I smiled to myself, but the smile faded at there was a loud tap at the front door.

"Aven?" A voice shouted, "Ave its me," I knew full well who it was. It was a somebody who would probably have a litter of flying chimps if he saw what a mess I was.

"Go away, Joe." I said, more to myself than him."

"C'mon, Ave, I know you're in there!" He yelled, banging on the door now, "Just let me in!" He pleaded.

"Go away, Joe." I repeated, my voice much louder this time.

"Aven, open this God-damning door now!"

"No!" I yelled, I pretty much sounded like a two year old but I figured that if I kept it up long enough he'd disappear.

Then I remembered it was Joe. The same Joe who was as stubborn as a… as a… very stubborn young man.

I sighed and stood up, wincing ever so slightly as some of the deeper cuts split further open. I trudged down the stairs and yanked the door open so only my head could be seen.

"What do you want." I said.

"Why weren't you at school?" He asked, stretching his neck to see behind me.

"Because." I really wasn't reeling social.

"Because…" he prompted.

"Just because!" I spat. Joe looked taken aback, "I'm sorry, just leave. Please." I added with the tiniest hint of a smile. It's the eyes. The get me every time.

"Fine whatever," He said. He was definitely pissed. He slumped down the drive and back down the street.

I slammed the door shut as soon as he turned his back on me and slid down the door. How could I just lie to my best friend so easily? I decided to quickly shift my ass to some place safe before daddy dearest got in. I made it to the fifth step then quickly decided against my previous decision.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is a free country right? I can lounge about my house if I wish. I didn't bother stepping round the glass, I just trudged through it like it was sand or something. That reminds me, I hadn't been to the beach in so long. In fact, I don't think I'd ever seen the sea except on TV at Joe's house. We don't have a TV here, dad slaughtered it the last time he got smashed.

The door opened and closed again. Quietly for the first time ever. "Clean that up." My dad said as he came into the living room, his boots crushing the glass further as he went to the kitchen.

"What the Hell? No!" I said, standing up, "I've looked after your fat lazy ass for too long now, do it your stinkin' self!" I said. Okay, its not everyday I say 'stinkin'' in-between words, but I'm allowed, I'm a proper Texan lady.

"Look, Aven, just don't fuck with me now, just stinkin' do it." He mocked me, his speech slurring slightly.

"I said no--" My voice was cut off as he fisted a clump of my blonde hair in his hand and threw me down to the floor, his hand still knotted in my hair.

"Clean the fucking stuff up, Aven!"

"Why--" He kicked me in the hip. I took a deep breath to soothe the pain and started scooping up the shards of glass with my hands.

By the time I was done, they were full of blood and glass, as were my knees.

"Theres a good girl," He cooed, crouching down and running his hand through my hair, before finally cupping my face. The ache in my hip told me not to say or do anything, "Now be a doll and throw that away for me, baby." He said, pressing an open mouthed kiss to my forehead. My stomach felt sick. Why was he being so cruel?

I stood up, taking care not to drop any of the glass and dumped it in the bin in the kitchen. I eyed the kitchen window and sighed. It was the kind of large-ish windows that opened out like a door, but I knew it would be locked.

But the window was old, and I could kick like a donkey. I was pretty sure I had like a 70% chance of outrunning my father if he could actually be bothered chasing me.

To shut my conscience up, I turned around, sending a silent prayer to my mom whilst clambering up onto the counter and kicking as hard as I could.

The frame gave way as the window popped open so easily that I propably could've pushed with my hand.

"Aven?"

I wasted no time in jumping out of the window and sprinting around the side of the house and running down the drive.

The fresh air was almost suffocating. It was weird because I'd never been out on my own watch, only ever for school.

I didn't stop running until I was stood at that friendly white door, furiously ringing the doorbell. _Please be Joe, please be Joe!_

A tall brown headed figure opened the door. "Joe!" I cried, leaping into his arms and crushing his head to my chest. I'd seen him just hours before, but boy did it feel good to see him!

"Aven?" He mumbled into my boobage, I released him and he looked slightly breathless, "What are you doing here?" He said quietly, opening the door further to let me in.

I couldn't stop the tears that swelled in my eyes when I reached his room. The wooden floor pushing the glas on my bare feet even deeper.

"Tell me everything?" He asked taking a seat beside me.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

I sighed and began, "Well, I was born in Texas to a man and a lady called Derek and Elizabeth. Everything was fine, but then my mom made a new friend called Lindsay. When I was about 6 my dad accused my mom of having a relationship with Lindsay, a lady from the bank, but my mom told him that she wasn't interested in women but he just wouldn't listen! So my father started drinking as an outlet. He'd get so drunk it made him angry. So, _so _mad. He used to blame his addiction on my mom because of the Lindsay incident. They'd fight and he'd beat her. Joe, he beat her like a fucking piñata. One day, when my dad was asleepin', my mom woke me up and told me we were leaving, just me and her, she told me 'Daddy has to stay here and work'. So we packed up and were set to leave. My mom said she just had to do one more thing before we went, and she went back inside. I was half asleep in the car, so I didn't really get what was happening, but my dad found us sneaking away and he got mad at my mum and hit he again. And again. And again. She was half dead when he pushed her into the back of the car. We drove for a while, to a road I'd never been down. He got out and took my momma with him. That was the last time I saw her. But she told me, before she went, 'Promise me you'll just forget this whole thing happened. You be good now, Darl'n'.' She smiled at me before dad hit her again. He lay -- well, practically threw her-- in the middle of the road then got back in the car. 'Lookee her you little bitch, you didn't se nothing' okay? You were asleep the whole time, got it?' He warned me before dialling 911 for an ambulance. I recall him saying it was a hit and run. Momma went to the hospital. She died within the next 4 hours from internal bleeding.

"Me and _him_ came here to New Jersey then, to start afresh he said. Afresh my ass. He did actually stop drinking though, he also took anger managemten classes. For about 3 years he was a real father to me.

But he caught news that my uncle Jeremy had died of some kinda cancer. Dad took it real _real _bad. He started drinking again. I think I can actually say I'm a personal friend of the Repo Man I've seen him so much since we moved here. He just drank all out stuff away. Dad kept sayin' he'd change. I'm still waitin'. Anyway, after Jeremy died, he blamed me. I became my mom and started yellin' at me. All of last week he knocked the shit out of me day in, day out. That's when I started cutting again." I sighed, flicking the hair from my face and standing up to pull my top over my head and to shimmy my shorts down my legs.

Joe gasped at my battered body. "Well, the bruises are getting better, I guess. But that ones new," I stated, poining out the new blue bruise on my left hip. "I did this before you came round." I said, showing him my arms and legs. I hung my head in shame. I was a mess.

I didn't notice but Joe was crying too. Big fat tears spilling over the edges of his bug brown eyes, "Shh, its not that bad!" I sobbed too. Who was I kidding. I sat on the bed again as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, hugging me into his chest.

"Shh." He breathed, "You don't have to think about him anymore." He said, rocking me gently.

"He's dead to me."


End file.
